It's not you, it's me. Again.

It’s not you, it’s me.

I’ve said that once or twice  (or maybe a lot more than that) when trying to explain why I can’t be in a romantic relationship any longer. I don’t think I've necessarily done a good job with the words I’ve spoken after, fumbling and muttering an explanation. 

Those words — or a version thereof — have caused hurt and have caused me hurt. They’ve caused me to run in a different direction, away from whatever situation made them happen in the first place.

My Favourite Husband (MFH) came along at a time in my life when I was done with running. I was also done with dating because I had a penchant for choosing men who were not good for me. If a nice guy happened to wander into my life, I rejected him because I rejected me and the idea I could attract a solid, decent, kind man was foreign to me. I would tell these men “it’s not you, it’s me” and meant it. MFH, though, was determined to persevere and stayed the course with patience, love and kindness. The few times I tried to flee, at the beginning, he gave me space but not too much. Instead, he talked with me about why I felt this way and soon my reasons for flight were neatly shelved, not to be dusted off.

After the initial bumps, I never thought of running. I never thought of leaving to look for a man who told me I wasn’t good enough. Instead, I stayed with the one who told me I was.

Now, though, I find myself in the curious position of uttering those words again: “It’s not you, it’s me."

After multiple online conversations and one coffee date, a man on the dating app has declared he feels a romantic pull towards me. The cynic in me says there is no way someone can feel like this after only one in-person meeting so, therefore, an ulterior motive must exist. The romantic in me thinks it’s poetic that my entire presence — my wit, my charm, my brains, my physical being — can attract a man so quickly. The realist in me acknowledges a connection can happen quickly but one should be careful that a connection isn't manufactured for the sake of desiring a potential romantic relationship.

The Coffee Date Guy (CDG) is pleasant and charming. He appears to be honest and sincere. There are many things I enjoyed about our meeting and no real negatives that I can recall. Having said that, he has met women from dating apps and he knows what he’s drawn to. For me, I’ve met only him off the app and had one confusing, shortlived attempt at dating prior to meeting him with someone not on a dating app. I don’t know what I want. I don’t even know if a romantic relationship is what I want.

The woman in me — the strong, bold, fierce, independent fighter in me — acknowledges this could be a possible connection. Hell, any meeting has the possibility to be a connection. But what she wants — what I want — is to choose me. I’m planning on travelling these next two months. This was my plan for fall that was paused and now I’m hitting the play button. This is an important step for me in my widowhood journey; my healing journey: independent travel. I don’t want to travel and have someone waiting for me at home. It would be different if we were in an established relationship but, to have someone I barely know want to wait for me, isn’t fair — to him nor I. 

So, I’m going to, as gently as possible, thank him for all of his kind words. And for his interest in me because it’s flattering to be considered as a potential candidate for a piece of someone’s heart. 

But then I’ll be uttering the words: “It’s not you, it’s me." 

I choose me as I walk — not run — away.

❤️